


Live To Tell

by maebyrutherford (maeberutherford)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Awkward Conversations, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4593153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeberutherford/pseuds/maebyrutherford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen and Ingrid discuss his past love after he promised to be more open and honest with her in an intimate, pragmatic, albeit slightly awkward way.</p>
<p>Takes place in the "What You Should Know" fic universe, at a later date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live To Tell

**Author's Note:**

> Reading [What You Should Know](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3418373) first isn't necessary, but recommended :).

Ingrid looked at him; her Commander, her lover, her dearest friend. He had brought a stack of reports with him last night and was poring over them on her settee, looking well rested in the soft light of dawn, lounging in his cotton tunic and the soft nug leather trousers she had made especially for him once she realized he only had two pairs to his name. He was most comfortable when he was working and he would take any opportunity to do so, something she had stopped fretting over ages ago and accepted; it was as much a part of him as his golden curls or his wickedly dry sense of humor.

She watched him, struck by the feeling that she  _knew_  him, understood him more than anyone, and yet there was so much about him that was still a mystery - in particular, the part of his life he'd only recently revealed as the layers between them unfurled. Ingrid was a firm believer that everyone, no matter how much they were devoted to another, deserved to have pieces of themselves kept private; not secrets, exactly, but something - feelings, thoughts, memories - that remained truly theirs and theirs alone.

And still...she wondered. He  _had_  told her she had only to ask.

Her curiosity grew harder to ignore with each passing day, and in the aftermath of their night of lovemaking, in this relaxed setting with no meetings to prepare for or the threat of recruits barging in and demanding his attention, she felt emboldened.

"Cullen."

"Mm?" His eyebrows raised in acknowledgement, but his eyes didn't leave the parchment.

She realized she had balled up the coverlet in her fist; Maker, she was  _nervous_.

"Can I ask you something?"

He must have heard something in her voice because he set down the report. "Of course." His expression was open, inviting.

"I, uh, I was wondering about what you told me, recently, about..." She felt herself quickly losing her nerve. Why did she need to know? What did it  _matter_? It was all ancient history.

Cullen swung his legs around so he was sitting upright, his brow furrowing. "Ingrid, you can ask me anything. What is it?"

She took a deep breath and fixed her eyes on his. "I want to know about Amell."

His eyebrows shot up, his lips parting slightly. "Oh, alright. Uh, what would you like to know, specifically?"

She hugged her knees to her chest. "Well, what was she like? Before she became a Warden?"

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Alright. Let's see, she was a very talented mage, which I'm sure you've heard. Even well before her harrowing, she was held up as an example of excellence in the circle, even if she didn't always follow the rules. Mastered spells before anyone else, even surpassed the skills of some of the elders. She always looked after the children, as well."

"Ah, the mother hen type. We had those in the Ostwick circle...I was not one of them.” She tittered. “I'm not very nurturing, I suppose." 

Cullen chuckled. "I wouldn't say she was exactly motherly. She tended to look after the more troublesome children, didn't put up with any of their nonsense, sort of whipped them into shape. I don't know how she did it; she was stern with them, maybe more so than the instructors, but the young ones respected her, they listened to her. She had that way about her. She commanded respect, even though she was a slight thing, barely twenty years of age." He paused. "A trait you two have in common. Dare I say you might have been friends?"

"Unlikely. At that age, I was too ornery for friends. I only had the one, and she basically worshipped me. I treated her terribly. I was a far cry from the beacon of joy I am today."

He laughed at her sarcasm.

"So is that what drew you to her? Her presence and her way with the children?"

"Partly, I suppose. It's not really something I can explain, but right away there was something. She was already there when I first arrived. She made me feel welcome, like an actual person and not just a templar. We quickly became friends once we realized we shared a passion for reading, particularly books about science and philosophy.” 

He leaned back on the sofa, resting his elbows on the backrest. “She would read tome after tome voraciously - I was never as fast a reader as she was - and pile them outside the door to my barracks. The other templars used to call me bookworm; affectionately, of course."

Ingrid rubbed her shins. "Was she pretty?" She darted a look at him, then went back to staring at her knees.

"Ah, yes, she was. Very much so."

"Oh. I see."

It was incredibly jarring to hear Cullen -  _her_  Cullen - speak of another woman in such a way, to think of him desiring or even noticing another. Still, Ingrid pressed on.

"I imagine it must have been difficult for the two of you. I mean, we had templar/mage relations at our circle - it didn't happen too often, but it did happen. Tricky business, hiding it from the Knight Commander and the Senior Enchanter."

She heard rustling and saw him approach the bed from the corner of her eye. He sat down near her feet and looked out toward the open windows. The room was now flooded with sunlight, the rays painting everything in the room and making his dark eyelashes appear golden. She'd never noticed how long they were.

"We never - ah, how should I put it -  _consummated_  our relationship. We talked whenever we could, touched hands a couple of times when nobody was looking, flirted, that sort of thing. But nothing...physical ever happened."

That was not at all what she had expected.

"Wait a minute - are you telling me that you were in love, but you never even  _kissed_?" She clutched her chest. "Oh, that is so sad!"

"We both thought we'd have more time, and I was trying to uphold my oaths as a templar. To be honest, we didn't really think it through. We were young, naive. Then her harrowing came, and Duncan arrived, and everything changed."

He opened his mouth as if to say something else, then closed it, a distant and slightly pained look in his eyes. It was a piece that he was keeping for himself, and she would not press him to share it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. It's heartbreaking, but also quite romantic."

"If you say so." He seemed to be reflecting. "It's funny, I haven't thought about her in ages, not like this. Sometimes I wonder if it truly was love and not a teenage crush. But, to be honest, I don't know if I should discount what I felt. It seems...ah, it's silly."

"What?" Ingrid scooted a little closer. "Tell me."

"It seems...disrespectful to her memory, in a way. To say that it was anything less." He examined his hands. "Does that make sense?"

She wasn't sure she had ever loved him more or felt closer to him than she did right then, in that moment.  

"Yes, it does." she said softly.

He reached out and took her hand. "It was a practice run, to prepare me for when I'd fall in love with you." His amber eyes met hers, the one corner of his mouth curving upward.

She clucked her tongue and squeezed his hand, giving him a grin of her own. "Charmer."

Ingrid laced her fingers with his and moved so she was sitting next to him, letting her legs dangle off of the bed.

"If she hadn't left with Duncan, do you think you would have stayed together?"

He gave her a sidelong look. "Must you ask such questions?" 

"I'm sorry! You can be honest. I promise I won't get upset."

"I should hope not, since we’re speaking entirely in hypotheticals."

He scratched his chin, looking deep in thought. "I've never thought about such a scenario. I suppose...I suppose, assuming Uldred still went through with his plans, she could have become an abomination. Far worse fate than a heroic death. Or, more likely, she would have fought back with Wynne, but I was too angry and damaged afterward. I likely would have distrusted her just as I did when she returned to the tower, as much as it pains me to say so. I still would have gladly left for Kirkwall. That experience poisoned me, for far too long. So, no, I do not think we would have endured."

She was sure that Amell, had she felt even a fraction of what Ingrid felt for him, would have fought to to save him from being tortured, perhaps even save some of his friends as well. But, she didn't say it.

Cullen seemed to follow her train of thought. "Even if none of that were to occur, I was so married to my duty as a templar, I am not sure I would have broken my oaths to truly  _be_  with her, the way she deserved, the way anyone would deserve. I was a very different man then."

"Not the rebel you are now, hmm?"

He chuckled and gave her a bemused look. "So have I satisfied your curiosity? Or would you like to know about the girl I kissed when I was 12?"

She ran a hand lightly across his jaw. "Thank you for telling me all of this. I know you dislike discussing that part of your life. It may seem silly, but it helps me to understand you. The man you've become. The man I'm desperately, hopelessly in love with."

He looked concerned. "Am I that difficult to understand?"

"Not very, but you still have an air of mystery about you. It's part of your appeal. Unlike me who spills my guts to you every chance I get."

He cocked his head. "I wouldn't say that, I still don't know much about your relationship with - what was his name? Joffrey?"

She waved her hand. "Oh, there's nothing to tell, really. Not nearly as salacious as falling for the Hero of Ferelden. Just a boring mages-in-love story."

He shifted on the bed so he was fully facing her. "If you're involved, it couldn't possibly be boring. Tell me about him. Start from the beginning."

And she did.


End file.
